Outrun the Wind

by Elizabeth Tammi

  I bark a laugh. “I fail to see how the two are related.” I’m glad my tunic is long enough to cover my shaking knees. I’m amazed I have the strength to speak so boldly to him, let alone look at him. “And you will never beat her.”

  He grins. “I race her. I win. I marry her. I take her back to Delphi. And you follow. That is how it goes, no? I’ll be seeing you later.”

  Phelix shrinks into himself, staring between us in horror. Even the horses seem nervous, pacing restlessly in their stalls. “No, you won’t,” I dare to reply.

  Hippomenes knocks on the door. “You know I will. I’ll always find you, cousin.” He flashes one last smile, then slips out of the stables. Phelix runs to me as soon as he’s gone and frantic tears hover at the edges of his pale eyes.

  “Kahina, what are we—”

  “No time,” I rush, and I nearly run for the door. “I have to warn her.”

  “Who, Atalanta?” Phelix cries. “But she’ll beat him.”

  I stare at him uneasily, then pull him into a quick hug. “Of course,” I whisper. He trembles against me. “You can stay here.”

  He shakes his head. “You know I won’t.”

  I grab his hand. “Then let’s go.”

  Atalanta is victory incarnate. I know I have nothing to worry about, but I still haul Phelix behind me like we’re the ones in a race.

  “He told me everything, Kahina,” Phelix blurts. “Your father’s fleet. Delphi. Artemis’s Hunt. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I curse Hippomenes for the millionth time in my life. Of course he’ll ruin my one stable relationship. “I’m sorry, Phelix.” I hope he can tell my voice is sincere, but I can’t afford to stop moving. The track is absolutely packed. Spectators—they’re not really suitors now, since they’re too scared to race her—spill out from around the track and up the benches.

  Phelix clenches my hand hard, forcing me to stop.

  “It’s all right,” he tells me, urgently. “It makes more sense now.” Relief floods me, but also, frustration. I need to get to his sister. But something’s clearly bothering him; his gaze keeps cutting to Isidora.

  “You know, if I’d known you were a huntress, that you’d known Isidora this whole time . . .” Phelix doesn’t finish the thought. He doesn’t need to. It’s one I’ve certainly had almost constantly since Isidora came back here.

  “You need to move on.” I tell him plainly. He’s my friend—he deserves no more lies from me. “You understand how Artemis’s Hunt works. That’s why you changed her temple in the first place, isn’t it? Her huntresses love, Phelix. Isidora is the most loving girl I know, but—”

  “But not in the way I want her to be.” His voice shakes. A cold wind snakes between us. “Maybe I’m the one who drove her away from here in the first place. I feel stupid now, now that I actually know what that type of love looks like.”

  He stares at me, his face gentle and almost apologetic. It takes too long, but I understand what he means. My jaw quivers. “Phelix . . .”

  Phelix shakes his head, and squeezes my hands. “These races are going to end. One way or another.” He looks to the track. “Let’s go.”

  “There you are!” Isidora comes out of nowhere, grabbing me and Phelix. Her voice is angry and bright, a conflagration of enormous proportions. “Where in Hades did you go off to, then?”

  “I—”

  Nikoleta storms to Isidora’s side, and despite my friendship with her, I’m still terrified. The war god’s daughter has fierceness written into every one of her features. “We came so close to tracking you.”

  Phelix points down at the racetrack, where Hippomenes examines Atalanta as she stretches. “He’s already here? He must be fast. Do you think he was right, Kahina?”

  “Of course not,” I mutter, my eyes examining Hippomenes’s casual stretching and the bump under Atalanta’s tunic, where the knife is. I breathe a little easier, but I won’t feel well until his body is motionless on the ground.

  “What is he doing?” Phelix asks, agitated. I realize Hippomenes is walking backward, to where Atalanta stands. I’m too far to hear the words he’s speaking, but I think I get the gist—he’s refusing the head start.

  “Someone’s confident,” Isidora remarks. She crosses her arms, then glances at me cautiously. “She will win this, right?”

  “No,” I blurt. I slap a hand to my mouth as everyone turns to me, and cough. “I mean—yes. Yes! Of course she’ll win.”

  Nobody believes me, least of all myself. But this is crazy—I have to be wrong. This voice inside me must be wrong—because there is no way she could lose. To anyone. Isidora’s eyes have blown wide, and Phelix bites his fingernails as he stares and stares at the track. Nikoleta studies me with carefully contained caution. Terror has taken over us all. I see it plainly.

  There’s no point wasting effort in keeping the panic at bay. I start for the track, shoving my way through the crowd until I’m standing right next to Ophelos at the edge. “Atalanta!” I scream, waving my arms frantically. She stands beside Hippomenes, and looks over to me with confusion. She mouths, you’re not supposed to be here. I wave at her frantically, trying desperately to make her understand —but Hippomenes watches me just as intently. He grins between us.

  Oh my gods.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Atalanta

  Ophelos’s hand arcs down. I swear I hear it slice through the air. Hippomenes and I launch forward, dust erupting beneath us. Adrenaline seeps through my veins, enough to make my body vibrate with energy. The golden blade is secured on a belt beneath my tunic. The cool metal spurs me on further and faster.

  The crowd roars in my ears, and I shove it aside. I don’t have time to glance over to Kahina and Phelix, but I keep their faces in the forefront of my mind. This is for them, for Meleager. For me. The curves my feet dig into are familiar now—I know how this track twists and levels off. I was born to win this. I remember Kahina’s voice, low and excited, when she whispered this idea to me.

  Hippomenes hovers in my periphery. I slow down a fraction, so he can pass me—and I can launch my knife into him. Flashes of the Calydonian Hunt come to me—the six of us tearing through the forests. Meleager’s easy grin. The men’s laughter and crackling bonfires and blades everywhere. Through it all, I remember Hippomenes’s figure lurking and staring, until I felt like the target. Forget the boar.

  My arms and legs pump, and I’m running so hard that I feel my braid slowly begin to loosen. No time to readjust. I can see the final bend approaching. He still isn’t overtaking my speed, so I slow down again and reach one hand into my tunic. In response, Hippomenes reaches inside his own tunic. I nearly stop breathing. Will he have a knife too?

  But in his hand, he pulls out . . . an apple. A golden apple. He tosses it over his shoulder, and the sunlight glints over it. I frown at him. He offers me a smile, and pours on more speed. I grit my teeth to do the same, but then I freeze.

  “Atalanta!” Kahina’s voice shatters through me. My pulse stutters. I swivel frantically, looking wildly for her. Terrifying images hurtle to me—bloodstains, sharp blades . . . a howl of panic surges its way up my throat. My feet dig deep lines into the dirt as I slam to a stop, and a heartbeat later, I’ve found Kahina—she’s where she often is, beside Phelix underneath the towering oak alongside the track. Her eyes are narrowed in furious confusion. She hadn’t screamed. She’s safe. Relief slams into me, but then a sick dread takes its place. I glance warily as the golden apple behind me rolls to a gentle stop. There are other forces at play here.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Kahina

  My heart claws its way up my throat as I watch her. She can still win this. She’s lost time, and Hippomenes is fast, but Atalanta is faster. Always faster.

  My mind swims, and my jaw drops as he pulls out another apple. The crowd erupts into laughter as he chucks it back
as far as he can. This is insane. Again, I see Atalanta freeze and look for me. She runs again as soon as she sees me. I toss my hands up. “What is she doing?” I demand.

  Nikoleta stares solemnly at the race, the slightest hint of fear edging into her voice. “The gods,” she whispers. Isidora nods, her eyes never leaving the track.

  When he pulls out a third apple, I want to look away. This can’t be real. Atalanta stops. She looks for me, terror spelled out on all her features, then keeps running. But this time, I can see she’ll be too late. Hippomenes uses his third delay to, impossibly, pull ahead of her. There’s only mere feet left in the race.

  It’s like Atalanta wakes up in one instant. Her face transforms from confusion to hyper-focus, and she runs faster than my eyes can fully process. My breath catches, and I see the whole crowd tense up. She can still win this. She can—

  Hippomenes’s legs pump beneath him faster, faster, and then, he’s over the line in the dirt. Atalanta follows him within a second, complete shock registering as the crowd erupts into a deafening roar. Hippomenes grins and slows to a walk, waving at the audience, but keeping his eyes on Atalanta all the while.

  His prize.

  I fall to my knees.

  “Kahina!” Phelix kneels down next to me. “Breathe.”

  I try to. He forces me up into a sitting position, and Nikoleta and Isidora glance at each other worriedly. This isn’t happening. The crowd surges forward, and it takes both huntresses to keep them away from me and Phelix. He holds me as best he can, whispering meaningless words as the men hoist Hippomenes up, chanting his name. He’s defeated the eternal victor and won the grandest prize in all of Greece—pride, and marriage to a legend.

  I look up. Iasus stands at the top bench, his eyebrows raised in surprise, but nothing more. Nora runs down to the track, and she and the other servants rush to a frozen Atalanta.

  “No,” I murmur, trying to stand. I fall back, and Phelix keeps me steady. “No!”

  Atalanta cranes her neck across the crowd as she’s taken away, and she looks at me with tears in her eyes. She shakes her head, mouthing I’m sorry over and over again. I finally shove myself up until I’m standing, though both girls and Phelix have to help me stay upright.

  “Let me go!” I scream. “I need to see her!”

  I struggle against Nikoleta’s grasp, but she holds me fast. “Don’t,” she warns.

  It’s too much. Tears overtake me, and I sink into her. Isidora sighs, and grasps my shoulder. Nikoleta holds me carefully. “What happened?” I keep asking. “This is impossible.”

  Phelix runs his hands through his hair, staring at the track. Hippomenes is still being fawned over by the other men. I nearly vomit.

  “I need to see her,” I say again, insistently. The bright morning sun feels clammy and cold. My chest still heaves and hiccups. I didn’t realize how quickly a world could be overthrown. “Please.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nikoleta says. She pulls away, and holds me at arm’s length. “But we need to talk.”

  I frown, blinking through my tears. Isidora nods grimly. “Come with us.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Atalanta

  I break free of Nora’s iron grip as soon as the doors slam shut behind me. Men throng every entrance and exit. Dots of light and darkness swim around me, and my chest feels like it’s on fire. The only coherent thought I have is Kahina, Kahina, Kahina—I have to get to her. I have to explain that I didn’t let him win on purpose.

  The servants hover by the walls, avoiding my gaze. Tears flood my vision, and I know Nora’s speaking to me, but I don’t care. I don’t care. There’s only one Olympian who might understand, who might help. I make myself meet Nora’s dark, troubled eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I choke. She shakes her head, and the gray in her hair seems more pronounced than usual. “I have to go to Artemis’s temple.” Apprehension guards Nora’s features, but I stand my ground, though my knees feel like they’ll give out any second. “Maidens are allowed to do that. Supposed to. Please? Let me go.”

  “Just come back,” Nora says, her voice shaky. She’s trying to figure out how it could be a trap, and so am I. She grips my forearms once, then nods for me to leave.

  My chest still caving in on itself, I jog through the kitchens and out the back entrance. Suitors are still outside, mostly preoccupied with Hippomenes, but I figure they’ll see me. I break into a sprint, praying no one will follow. The knife is still tucked into my tunic, forgotten and useless. The trees fly by me, smaller villas and farms moving by too quickly to discern.

  I know the way to Phelix’s construction. His temple to Isidora, really. But it is neither hers nor Apollo’s any longer; Kahina and I have made certain of that. I barely make it past the columns before I fall to my knees. Sobs wrack my whole body, and I wipe my eyes, crawling to the altar. I bury my head in my hands.

  Save me from your brother’s servant. Save me from this man.

  I’m not sure what else to say, but I release all of the fear and horror through my tears. My stomach aches. Was it just yesterday that Kahina kissed me? For her own sake, I pray she’s run far, far from here. Back to her home. Safe from Hippomenes and Apollo . . . though as long as they live, I fear we’ll never be safe.

  “You ran well.”

  My blood runs cold, but I’m not surprised. I make my way to my feet. I will not speak to Hippomenes from the ground.

  I spit into his face. “Was Meleager not enough? Was kidnapping your own cousin not enough?”

  He won’t stop smiling. “You should’ve joined Artemis’s huntresses. Like I told you to. Now, look what you’ve done.”

  I punch him hard across his jaw. My fist explodes with the pain of impact, and his skin grows red. But he’s still smiling. “I’m not going with you,” I growl. The temple seems too small, too suffocating. I pray that Artemis senses my pain.

  “You can’t break an oath on the River Styx,” he laughs. Hippomenes runs his hand across his jaw. “Hades will send all sorts of curses after you.”

  “I. Don’t. Care.”

  He takes two steps toward me. Now, his smile starts to fade. “You saw how well you fared against those little apples, right? See, Apollo has all sorts of tricks. You may be a warrior, but you are still human. Or have you forgotten?”

  I clench my jaw so hard I taste blood.

  “Fine,” he says. “We’ll take the hard way.”

  Hippomenes snaps his fingers, and the world sinks away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Kahina

  “Phelix,” Isidora asks. “Can you ready the horses? I think we’ll be borrowing them today, if that’s all right.”

  It takes him a moment to register the question, but he nods numbly, and starts walking to the stables. If it’s possible, I feel even worse—Nikoleta and Isidora stare at me as if I have a fatal wound. “Let’s go take a walk,” Nikoleta suggests, voice low. “Shall we?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  She smiles thinly. I want to run back to Atalanta’s suite, to hold her close to me, to escape into the mountains with her. But Nikoleta’s gaze is too strange to ignore. Isidora links her arm through mine and leads us across the fields. We leave the track behind, and step through the knee-high grass. It makes a strange shuffling sound in the wind.

  But my eyes are unseeing. My stomach is a pit, and it only opens deeper when I see Nikoleta and Isidora’s stares. “What’s this about?”

  “You—” Nikoleta starts. She clears her throat. “We’ve noticed something about you, Kahina, since getting here.”

  “I assume it’s not my impeccable grace and beauty?” I ask wryly.

  “What was my mother’s name, Kahina?”

  “Hanna,” I reply automatically. My mouth tastes bitter.

  Nikoleta looks to me and stops in her tracks. Isidora and I follow sui
t. “That’s what I mean, Kahina. I’ve never told you her name before.”

  I falter, not sure what she’s implying. “I . . . but you know about Delphi. What Apollo did to me.”

  “But it hasn’t worn off.” She tugs the headscarf out of her pack, unfolding it in her sturdy hands and wrapping it around her. “It should have, by now, after so long a time—after how far from Delphi you’ve gone. Why is Apollo trying so hard to get you back?”

  My pulse slows. “What are you saying?”

  “What if—what if this is permanent?” Nikoleta whispers. “We should have intervened sooner. I never should have let the Pythia train you.” Her eyes look haunted; they scare me more than her words. Isidora hovers by her, saying nothing. She twists a coil of her hair around her fingers, so tight that her knuckles go white.

  I swallow hard. Step back. “You mean . . . How long were you in that temple?”

  Nikoleta blinks, her eyes watery. “We infiltrated Delphi a few weeks before Apollo started taking a special interest in you. We had to get to know you, to figure out how and if we should get you and the other girls out.”

  “Didn’t you know the Pythia would make me powerful?”

  “I’m sorry,” Nikoleta says, her voice so low. Isidora purses her lips, looking down at the ground. “I had no idea those fumes had any real effect—I thought that Apollo would stop affecting you once you were away from Delphi for a while. That’s what’s supposed to happen. But then I got here, and you started knowing all these things that there’s no way you should know.”

  “Those fumes nearly killed me,” I whisper. “I was just a girl, and now I’m one step down from a god who needs me—needs my power—back in his control. And you were, what? Hiding?”

  The memory hits me again. The one I’d convinced myself I’d imagined. Through the green mist, after the Pythia had spoken to me, a priestess—Nikoleta, I realize now—walked from the dark corners and whispered: Do you want to leave?